


Percy and Co. (I suck at Titles)

by orphan_account



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Abuse, Drugs, F/F, F/M, I give up, I'll write more as I go, Kids, LITERALLY, M/M, achohol, and dad, bascially everyone and their mum, do pugs not drugs, homophobes being homophobic, human!AU, non-con, other bad stuff, sexual stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-07 09:54:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7710613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PJO/HOO mortal au. I'll have trigger warnings in the beginning notes. I suck at summaries, please just read.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Sup! Thanks for checking this out!  
> Trigger warning: Sexual content. NOT SMUT, but...that really all I can say without spoilers. Child abuse

Reyna was 8 years old. Her mother, father, and sister all lived happily together. Her father was Roman, and he taught Latin and Roman history. He always joked he was cheating at his job, because Latin was his first language, and he learned he learned history in school as a child in Rome. Her mother always replied that teachers needed to know what they were teaching, so he was just doing his job. Her mother was Puerto Rican, and owned a chain of self-defense, karate, and fighting classes. She made the most money, but she never had anymore than she needed, it seemed. She always came home late, with dark circles under her eyes, with a briefcase full of documents. Sometimes Reyna or Hylla would tiptoe in at 2 or 3 am, and turn off the bright lights, and drape a blanket over her. Or sometimes they'd creep in only to find she was still awake. Then Mom would tuck them both into bed with a lullaby and a kiss. Sometimes Dad would instead, if Mom was too busy.

Bellona was thirty five, and only a few words were going through her head, all of them ugly. Gentrification. Taxes. Bankruptcy. Sometimes she wondered if her life would have been any better if she'd stayed silent about her...secret. Somehow she doubted it. Oh, well, she guessed she'd never know, now.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Thalia was 7 years old, and currently hiding from her mom. "He left me!" she could hear Beryl Grace shout. "He left all of us." Thalia was in the closet, both metaphorically, and literally. Although she doubted she could call this trash heap a closet. There was nothing wrong with the closet in general, just the contents inside. Thalia was huddled in the corner of the closet, sitting on empty beer cans, syringes full, and cigarettes. Shoved in the closet so Beryl's 'boyfriends' didn't see. Didn't see that Beryl was a smoker, drug addict, and alcoholic. Not that is was Beryl's fault, so she said. No, it was all blamed on the father she never met; John "Zeus" Jupiter (A/N Yeah, I know, terrible name. Feel free to yell at me about it in the comments.), actor and millionaire. He and Beryl met on stage, on thing led to another, and Zeus had left them, because apparently, he had a wife. (Yeah, right, like Beryl didn't know that already. The guy was famous) Thalia suddenly tensed, and it took her a few seconds to realize why; Beryl's lumbering, uneven footsteps (drunk again, Beryl? Really?) were coming towards Beryl's bedroom, where Thalia's hideout was. Except...that wasn't uneven, drunken footsteps, those were two pairs of footsteps which meant...NOT NOW! Thalia internally screamed. ANY time but NOW. Thalia backed up in the closet, until her back was against the wall. She wondered desperately if she kept putting pressure against the back of the closet, she would find Narnia. She didn't care if a power-hungry queen would kill her, anywhere was better than here. She pressed her hands on the side of her head, and squeezed her eyes shut. The only thing she could do was wait it out. Suddenly her train of thought was interrupted by a low moan. Oh, shit. (Yes, she was seven and she swore. She was taught by a master.) She pressed her hands harder around her ears, and felt a tear trickle down her face. It wasn't like she hadn't hear these sounds before, or didn't know what they meant, due to that one time she had walked in on her mom and her male 'friend'. But being in the same room as it felt so wrong. A scream suddenly cut through the air-her mom. Thalia tried her hardest not to sob, when suddenly-it ended. Again, she tried not to sob, but this time from relief. She heard talking, but couldn't make it out, and it sounded like people were putting their clothes on. Then a door opened and closed again, and Thalia let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. It was over, she told herself. He was just some random horny nobody, who'd never appear in her life again. Little did she know how wrong she was.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Hazel was 4 years old, and tears were streaming down her face. She had just taken all her toys and most clothes outside. "Sell them," mommy said. "You can't come inside or eat until everything is sold. And at a good price, too. Mommy's gonna be queen again."

Maria watched through her window. The bitch hadn't even sold one thing, and it was 10 o'clock. Whatever. She'll spend tonight without any dinner, to help motivate her. Her whole purpose was to make Marie a queen again. How DARE she fail. Marie threw open the door, and saw Hazel weakly lift her head hopefully. "Food?" she asked hopefully. Ha! So the Bitch expected Marie to put food on her plate, but didn't earn any money of her own? The greedy hypocrite. "No," Marie snapped, "Bed." Hazel's stomach growled, and Marie fought the urge to roll her eyes. If she wanted dinner, she'd have to earn bank! Marie had said so very clearly beforehand. What an idiot.


	2. Beginnings pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read the chapter title.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! I know this is horribly late, I have no excuse, but I was just really unmotivated, but then every day, I'd wake up and think 'oh, crap. Another day without unloading.' So, congratulations! You're guilt tripping is now my motivation! But, seriously, I am really, really sorry, and I will try to do better.  
> Shoutout to Beth (guest) for being the first to comment-Sup, girl! Thank you so much if you're reading this! Here's some cookies! (::) (::) (::) (::) Also, we share the same first name. Cool, right? :)  
> Also, and this goes for all my future chapters as well, if I somehow offended you, let me know, I'll edit the chapter.  
> Triggers: Death, Abuse

Piper  
Piper was four years old, and was in Grandpa Tom's cabin. Grandpa was lying on the couch, and Daddy stood behind her, crying, but Piper didn't know why. Crying was what happened if you got a boo-boo, or you're sad. Did Daddy have a boo-boo? Piper was about to ask him, but Grandpa Tom grasped her hand "Listen to me, Piper," his voice sounded scratchy, like nails on a chalkboard, and she would've covered her ears, except her daddy said 'That's rude'. (A/N In case it's unclear, Tristan didn't say that then, but when she covered her ears before. I'm writing from the P.O.V. of a four year old, people. Give me a break.) "You-you were named Piper because of your voice." Piper beamed. She'd just mastered "Happy Birthday", and Daddy had told her how good she was. "You will learn all the greatest songs, including the snake song. Just-just don't eat any squirrels, okay?" "Okay," Piper said. "I'm a veg-i-tar-i-an, anyways. That means I don't eat squirrels." Grandpa Tom smiled, and patted her hand like it was a dog. "Good girl." Then his head thudded against the pillow, and he became still. "Grandpa?" Piper poked the side of his face, but he didn't react. Piper looked at Daddy for help, and saw his eyes were still crying. He took her hand. "Come on, Pipes. We won't see Grandpa for a while, he's in Ghost Town."

The next day, Daddy was going to encase Grandpa in stone and stones. Piper's eyes were crying. "But, Daddy, what if Grandpa wakes up, and he doesn't want to be in a stone box anymore?" Daddy's eyes were also crying. "Grandpa's in Ghost Town, remember Pipes?" (A/N "Ghost Town" starts playing in the background.) Piper nodded her head obediently "Grandpa won't wake up if he's in Ghost Town. One day, you'll understand." Piper pouted angrily. "I wanna understand now!" Daddy sighed. "Listen, Grandpa in a place where he can be happy all the time with his gods. It's called an afterlife." "Af-ter-life." Piper tried the word out. "Huh." Just then, a man walked up. He was shirtless, and had feathers in his hair, and beaded necklaces. "Who are you?" Piper asked looking at him. "You look funny." (A/N Please don't hate me! I just think it's what little Piper would say, because she's young and her father didn't really teach her about Cherokee culture!) The man glared at her. "I'm a priest. I've come to send your grandfather to the afterlife." "Af-ter-life," Piper said. "That's the same word Daddy used." The priest looked at Daddy. "May I proceed?" Daddy nodded. (A/N And I'm going to stop it right here as to avoid offending more people then I already have.)  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Percy  
Percy was six years old, and was counting how many times he's heard 'punk' tonight. 32. "I'm telling you, if you don't do something about that punk-" 33 "brat of yours, I'm going to-" "He's not a 'punk-"34 "brat', he's my son! And the reason he's so tired is because we always do this at night!" Percy sighed and looked at the clock. One dot dot zero eight. 1:08. Percy took a pillow, and shoved it to the sides of his head, and the voices faded to a background noise. Suddenly, Percy heard a thud, and the voices stopped. Heart pounding, Percy took the pillow off of his head, and strained to hear anything. If this was like last time-suddenly Percy heard footsteps pounding upstairs. He went limp just as the door opened. Footsteps kept getting closer to his bed. Percy fought the urge to gag. Smelly Gabe, true to his name, so close Percy could detect all the smells he reeked of-beer, old socks-think of anything else, Percy thought, except the smell. Smelly Gabe whispered in his ear. "I know you're awake." Percy didn't say anything. Gabe laughed, then shoved Percy out of his bed and left. Oh, great. More bruises to look forward to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random thought of the day; in the Battle of the Labyrinth, Percy Jackson noted some demigods died, and some just disappeared, never to be seen again. Ever wonder if some of those demigods just said "screw it," and moved to Alaska? It would probably even work. Like maybe when a demigod was old enough, they could move to a demigod retirement home shrouded in the mist for all demigods who lost all fucks to give. Just a thought.  
> Also, I learned the information of Cherokee afterlife, and rituals when someone dies, from this- https://courtneymillerauthor.wordpress.com/category/cherokee-afterlife/  
> Also, if anyone is Cherokee and reading this, I read about the things you do after someone in your family member dies, I respect it, I just don't believe that Tristan would've done all the cleansing of the house and body and things because he doesn't believe in Cherokee beliefs, or as Aphrodite says, he's scared to believe in things like that because...um, actually, now that I think of it, I have no idea why he's afraid of believing in things like that, but there you have it. Also, if anyone knows anything about Cherokee beliefs that I could add to or change my story with, please let me know.  
> Live long and prosper!

**Author's Note:**

> And...that's chapter 1! Cheerful, I know. But I wanted to write about their lives from the beginning, and you gotta admit, like all of the 7 and Nico have a horrible backround story. But I have to cover them! Bad news; the next chapter's gonna be other hero's childhood stories. Sorry this was so shitty and rushed, especially the last part, but hey, I did this in 1 day, and Hazel's story was, like done at 10:30, so I basically just pulled that out of my ass. May the force be with you!


End file.
